Stop Standing There

The game against the Flames had gone extremely well. The Canucks had won 5-2, with goals from Edler, Higgins, Kesler, and two from Burrows. The boys were heading out the next day for a game in Edmonton, and so Skylar and I hurried into work the following morning. My cousin took her car to help at the airport, while I headed to Rogers Arena to finish packing up the equipment there.

I was hauling a bag up onto the back of the truck when I heard the door behind me open. I figured it was George or Luke, two guys that worked with us, and so I was surprised when I heard a familiar, French-accented voice say my name.

"Sarah?"

I bit my lip, glanced over my shoulder, and used one final push to lift the bag over the top of the truck. I took a deep breath before coming face to face with Max and bracing myself for the effect of his deep brown eyes.

"Hi," came my reply.

Max cracked a smile. "'Ey." We stared at one another and I waited until he spoke again. He scratched his forehead before saying, "I left my iPod 'ere yesterday," he grinned sheepishly. "I came to get it and 'eard you were 'ere. I wanted to apologize for the other day. I was just kidding."

I analyzed his face. He slid his hands in his pockets and looked at me. I felt my lips pull up slightly and I shrugged. "It's okay." I stuck out my hand, and Max shook it firmly. "Let's start over. I'm Sarah."

"Max."

I let out a soft giggle and Max laughed along with me. I leaned back against the truck, crossing my arms. I smirked up at him and said, "So, come here often?" I watched him, trying to hide my grin, but as he broke into another bright, signature Max smile, I couldn't hold it in. His smile made his eyes squint, and my stomach fill with butterflies.

"Ah," he raised his eyebrows, "So she 'as a sense of humour, eh?"

I scrunched up my nose. "Sometimes." Our laughter died down, and Max crossed his arms, mimicking my position. We were silent for a moment until he spoke up again.

"I'm going to ask you something."

I looked up at Max, my eyebrows raised. I was trying to act cool, but inside I was anything but collected. "Okay?"

"When we come back after beating the Oilers," Max grinned, "Would you want to get coffee with me?"

"Max..."

He held up his hands. "No pick up lines. Just coffee," he promised.

I sighed and then smiled. "Okay."

***

I watched the game from the visitor's lounge room in Edmonton, my fingers clenched into fists and resting on my knees. I looked at the clock on the top of the TV screen, wincing. 54 seconds left, and the score was 2-2. I really didn't want it to go to overtime.

I hated overtime. The idea that the game could be over with just one goal, not giving the other team a chance to retaliate... I hated it. On the other hand, it was exciting. I guess you could say I hated it when my team was the one that lost in overtime, but when they scored, it was possibly the best thing in the world. I guess I just wasn't good with nerves.

I watched the puck, my eyes darting back and forth, and groaned as Taylor Hall rushed forward, passing to Jordan Eberle for a high shot that just barely made it over Luongo's shoulder. I sighed, my head in my hands, and turned to my cousin. We fist bumped and said the customary 'good game'. We sat back on the couches, settling in for about the next fifteen minutes. We weren't allowed in the locker room right after games, due to the fact that there was, no doubt, a strip show going on, and so after every game, we waited and then headed out to the benches to start collecting the equipment.

My mind wandered to Max, and I found myself smiling as I thought about the goal he had scored. They had zoomed in on him on the bench on the screen, and I'd be lying if I said there hadn't been butterflies as soon as I saw his face. Heck, there were butterflies when I even heard his name.

This was ridiculous. I nearly laughed at myself. There was just something about him; his accent, his smile, his laughter. It was contagious. I couldn't help it. I bit my lip, before turning to my cousin.

"Max asked me to go out for coffee."

Sky turned to me, eyes wide. "Max? Lapierre?" I nodded, and jumped as she let out a squeal. "Sarah! Oh, he's cute. Do you like him?"

I shrugged, falling back against the couch. "I don't know. I mean, I don't know him. But... I don't know."

Sky rolled her eyes. "That would be a yes."

I gently hit her arm. "Shut up, Sky. It's just coffee, anyway. It doesn't mean anything."

"Do you want it to?"

That was my queue to stand up. But as I headed out of the room, I couldn't help but wonder. Did I want it to mean anything? I couldn't. It was just friendly coffee. Max and I couldn't get involved. We just couldn't.